


Sweets and Snow

by creepy_shetan



Category: History Boys (2006), History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Dessert & Sweets, Gen, Male Friendship, Post-Canon, Traditions, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2990657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/pseuds/creepy_shetan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys get together during a winter break for their own special tradition.</p><p>(Originally posted 2014/12/29 as a fill for a prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweets and Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ami_ven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/gifts).



Brushing the powdery snow from his shoulders and grinning at Dakin's canine-like shake of his head to remove the white clinging to his dark hair, Scripps announced to the room, "We've come bearing gifts!"

Their friends, already seated around a table with warm drinks in front of them and their outer layers draped over their chairs behind them, cheered and applauded. 

"What could _Dakin_ have to offer us?" asked Akthar over the noise.

"The gift of my charming presence, of course," Dakin said with a wink and a bow.

The group started to boo him, but were silenced when he held up the bag he was carrying high over his still-bowing head.

"And my mum's infamously addictive white chocolate peppermint bark."

The cheering resumed as Dakin claimed a place at the table, smacking away a couple of hands that tried to seize the bag from him.

"What about our dear Don Scripps? Hope it's not toffee or caramel. We've got plenty of that," called Timms from the far side of the room, gesturing at the assortment spread across the table.

"Really? I'll just take my contribution back then," Crowther said with a slow reach for the full plate in front of Timms.

Timms snatched the plate away, keeping it far from anyone's reach, and gasped dramatically. "Once made, your sacrifice to the altar of holiday sweets cannot be taken back!"

"Yeah, mate, it's blasphemy. Don't you have any respect for tradition?" Lockwood said from his place across from Crowther, somehow with a perfectly straight face.

"Anyway," Dakin interrupted not-so-subtly, "Back to Sir Scripps. He wouldn't even tell _me_ what was in the bag on the way here."

"Didn't want to ruin the surprise," Scripps said lightly. 

He stood at the last open spot at the table and opened the bag. The others crowded around -- some seated, some half-standing -- to get a better look. Scripps pulled out a large tin box and set it on the table. When he opened it, there was a strange cacophony of sounds from the group that could only be interpreted as positive.

"Don't tell me... Is that...?" Posner trailed off, his gaze shifting from the tin's contents to Scripps.

"My great-gran's recipe, yes," Scripps confirmed with a small nod.

"Jesus..." muttered Rudge.

"...was probably the last person to witness this blessed miracle," Lockwood chimed in.

"Hey, it's not _that_ rare," Scripps said. "And what were you saying earlier about blasphemy?"

"Erm... Hallelujah?"

"Oh, hush," Dakin said, eyes locked on the tin's contents as he gave Scripps a rough pat on the shoulder. "You probably bathe in this stuff every year, don't you, Scripps?"

Scripps made a face at the mental image. "I respect fudge too much to let it go to waste. That's why I've brought this offering of surplus sweets, compliments of my mum and my aunt."

"They probably begged you to get it out of the house, right? Hell, I've probably gained a kilo just looking at it."

"Their loss! I haven't seen it in so long, I almost forgot what it looked like."

"Can never forget the taste, though."

The chatter continued in this manner as Dakin and Scripps added more holiday treats to each plate. Once everyone had a bit of everything and a warm drink in hand, Dakin took it upon himself to make a short toast before they dived into the decadent feast.

Near the end of the first round of drinks, Posner was elected to be mother, which earned the entire table a dark glare. But then he smiled dangerously and yanked Scripps up from his chair, proclaiming him to be father. Scripps managed to grab the fudge tin before Posner dragged him into the kitchen, and he could hear the collective laughter morph into mournful groaning behind him.

Posner handed Scripps the tea as he set to work on the coffee. They both watched the snow falling outside of the small window over the sink while they waited for the leaves to steep and the grounds to brew. 

After half a minute, Posner asked in a quiet voice, "I thought your aunt was visiting her husband's side of the family this year."

Scripps didn't look at him, but he tilted his head ruefully. 

"The things you remember, Pos..."

Posner didn't look at him either, simply content to wait.

"I've helped Mum with it before. I wanted to give it a go myself this year. We made two batches, just in case."

Posner nodded. 

"Tastes just like how I remember it."

Scripps bumped his shoulder into Posner's. 

"Thanks."

Posner lightly mimicked the shoulder bump and then stepped away. The tea and coffee were done.

"I'm," Posner started slowly as he focused on his hands, "no good at sweets." 

He could see Scripps watching him out of the corner of his eye. 

"I've been told, however, that my bread shows great promise," he finished in a matter-of-fact tone.

When Posner looked up, tray in hand, his shadow of a smile grew at the sight of the open expression that Scripps wore.

Lifting his own tray, Scripps noted casually, "Look at us: the two secret bakers-in-training."

"What would the children think if they knew?" Posner conspiratorially asked with a raised brow and an inclination of his head toward the door.

"They'd be a right nuisance about Mum's and Dad's hobbies, always taking shares of the spoils. Best not to reveal ourselves just yet."

Posner paused for less than a second before agreeing. 

"We have plenty of time to break their poor brains later."

"For now," Scripps said, walking backwards out the kitchen door, "we keep the truth between us."

A yell from the other side of the door immediately greeted them.

"There's Mother and Father now!"

Posner rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stifle the fondness that made its way into his smile. 

"They wouldn't be able to handle it, anyway."

"By the way, you'd better have some bread for me the next time I see you," Scripps said, his stern tone undercut by his quick wink.

The door swung shut behind them, but it didn't stay shut for long.

"Oy, where's the fudge?!"

Scripps only just made it to the kitchen counter first. He sighed and caved in, however, to Dakin's pitiful pouting face. He handed his friend a piece that immediately disappeared without a trace. Scripps sighed again, and then turned away from Dakin's grin to rejoin the others. 

He honestly didn't mind if he got credit for his culinary efforts or not; he was happy to know that his work was appreciated. Although, Scripps wasn't prepared for the sheer enthusiasm he witnessed from his friends. He wondered with an odd sense of detachment, as he watched the tin get passed around the table and calculated how quickly it'd been emptied, if this is how all their parents felt all the time. 

Scripps shot Posner a forlorn look across the table that was met with understanding and a bit of sympathy. Children were monsters.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: Any, any, it's a stupid thing to keep secret, but it's hers/his and no one else needs to know.  
> The theme: Secrets  
> Originally posted [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/343638.html?thread=60819798#t60819798).  
> I only own the writing.
> 
> For the curious... The writing of this wasn't fueled by any holiday treats, unfortunately.


End file.
